Sherlock Drabbles and One-Shots
by SherlockNinja
Summary: The title says it all. Most will be Johnlock-y and maybe a bit of mystrade. If it's not your cup of tea, don't drink it. I suck at summaries. Rated T because I'm paranoid.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This was originally a 221B, but I saw a mistake and had to fix it, making the story longer. It is now a 442B. Sorry about that, I'll try again next chapter. **

**Anyways, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed! If you would like me to write anything in particular, than all you have to do is ask! Feel free to leave a review or even PM me, and I will get back to you about whatever it is that you wish to discuss.**

**Thanks again!**

**-SherlockNinja**

* * *

John stared at the silhouette by the window and he wished he had a proper camera. The figure was gazing out the window, as if guarding the streets from danger, but he remained as still as a marble bust. The light coming from outside made him shine with a heavenly glow, unlike all of the other figurines John had ever seen. He picked up his violin, and started playing softly and slowly, in a calming melody. That was the only way that John could tell that he was not a structure. He looked like an angel, come down to Earth to watch over Baker Street, soothing and cleansing the heart of many with his violin. Sometimes easing the pain of some when their burdens became too much to handle. Giving the people in despair hope, and giving the weak strength to face the day. John picked up his phone silently and took a photograph, he couldn't bear to not get _some_ picture of this moment, even if it was with a stupid, crappy, cell phone camera. Unfortunately, John forgot that his phone made a loud click when taking a photo, and so the living statue started to move, spinning in a graceful circle to find the source of the noise.

He saw the phone in John's hand, camera still pointed at him, and correctly deduced what had happened. He raised an eyebrow.

"I...I was just...texting my s...sister." John tried feebly to deny his earlier action, but the angelic man saw right through it.

"I know what you did, Just tell me why." His velvety baritone demanded.

"You... Sherlock," John paused, unsure of whether to tell his friend or not. Telling him would probably mean that the friendship was over and that would break John's heart and crush it to pieces. Sherlock had become John's world, and to be rejected would leave John lost, hurt, and confused. He sighed, his flatmate was amazing at observing so he would probably find out everything anyway. It was slightly better to tell him rather than be deduced one day at random, and break down into tears because he was unprepared for being sent away.

"Before I tell you this, you should know that I can contain myself, and I would never, _ever_ take advantage of you. I would-"

"Just get to the point, John"

John was glad for the interruption, because truthfully, he wasn't sure what exactly he would have said next. He braced himself for the horrible blow of being kicked out and took a few deep breaths.

"Come on, John, out with it."

"You're beautiful."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Sorry it's been so long... So I'm trying my hand at kid!lock, please tell me how I did! I would love some prompts if anyone's willing to surrender a few, that would be great and if you guys prompt me I may get chapters done sooner *wink wink*. Please correct anything that's wrong or "not British enough", I don't live there so I don't know.**

**-SherlockNinja**

* * *

Sherlock sat in his normal corner at school, away from all the rest of the kids. He was bullied by most of them and the rest he had scared off with his _trick_. He could tell them about their life at home just by looking at them. On a couple of occasions he'd made someone cry, but he has never apologized in his life. He had too much pride to even mutter "I'm sorry." His parents often explained him as "a young adult packed into a six year old's body." So little Sherlock would sit in a corner and read his dad's old college textbooks while the other kids played useless games like "Duck, Duck, Goose" and "I Spy". Today there was a new kid and Sherlock thought nothing of him (father recently retired from service, one older brother, mother works as a clothing designer, overall happy family), but then he came over to Sherlock's corner during outside activity time.

"Hello, my name is John Watson, and I'm going to be joining class B today! They haven't decided my number yet, though." The boy asked and smiled patiently. For some reason, Sherlock wanted to make John smile all the time. But Sherlock never wanted to make people smile, that's what _friends_ do and Sherlock didn't have any friends, not even one! Maybe he could make an exception... No, this was a normal boy, he would just use _the trick._

"Swing set or slide?" He asked.

"I'm sorry, what?" John answered, his smile fading.

"Did you get hurt on the swing set or the slide?" Sherlock replied turning back to his book and flipping the page.

"Swing set, but how did you..."

Sherlock looked up. "You're limping, you got hurt somewhere, and it had to be a place where you were aloud to go, so home, school, store, or park. The store and home are usually safe with your parents near you at all times and if you got hurt at school, your parents would have sued, but they didn't. Therefore you got hurt at the park, but where? Not climbing trees, you don't like going too high, shown when you wouldn't stand on a step ladder without support. You don't like to get dizzy either, so swing set or slide?" Sherlock went back to his book, thinking that would get rid of the boy. John said nothing for a while, but didn't walk away.

"That was amazing." John finally said. Sherlock was shocked. The boy should be upset or mad, not in awe!

"That's not what people normally say."

"What do they normally say?"

Sherlock leaned over to whisper in John's ear. "They say 'shut up'."

"That's not nice!"

"I'm used to 'not nice.'"

"Well, people should..."

"Alright class, time to eat snack!" Mr. Greg said, interrupting the boy's conversation.

"I guess we should go eat." Sherlock said, getting up and turning to run off. John grabbed his wrist and stopped him.

"Wait, you didn't even tell me your name and class number!"

"The name's Sherlock Holmes, and my class is 2-2-1B." He said before dashing off to grab a snack.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Sorry it's been awhile, as it gets closer to school time, my updates will get farther apart, but I will not quit yet. Thank you for reviewing, following, and favoriting!**

**-SherlockNinja**

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_10:23 PM_

As I have said before, Sherlock is gone.

He didn't give me the chance to say what I wanted to say. So Sherlock, if you're out there somehow, fighting Moriarty (Who _was _real), please read my message. Or maybe there's internet after death.

I love you.

I have loved you for a while, but I buried the feelings because I didn't think I was gay. My sister got disowned for being gay, so I _couldn't_ fall in love with a man, right?

I was wrong.

I wasn't gay, I was just ... "Sherlocked" I guess. Besides, being gay is not bad. To my parents, if you're reading, I don't care if you disown me as well, because being in love with someone who is the same gender is still love. But let's get back to the point.

I love Sherlock.

So please Sherlock, now more than ever, I need that miracle. Don't be dead. Come back to me, back to home, back to 221B. I don't care if you don't return my feelings for you, I can deal with being best friends, just come back and tell me about your adventures and wonderful deductions and how you finally defeated Moriarty. It hurts to wait so long.

Just come home.

**_Comments_****:**

**Sally Donovan: **Why would anyone care this much about freak? Seriously John? I expected better out of you.

**Mrs. Hudson: **How rude!

**DI Lestrade: **Rude indeed,** Sally, **you've earned yourself an earlyretirement.

**Dr. John Watson:** Thank you** Lestrade, **but I don't think that's necessary.

**Mike Stamford: **I knew you two had a connection when you first met, but I didn't know it was that deep on yourend**, John.**

**Molly Hooper: **You guys always used to act funny around each other, I knew this was going to happen, but I'm really sorry it happened too late.

**Dr. John Watson: **Thank you.

**Anderson:** Ewwww! Freak is disgusting, how can you like him?

**DI Lestrade: **I guess you want to quit being a forensic scientist, **Anderson**, I'll see to that immediately.

**Anderson:** I didn't mean it!

**DI Lestrade: **You still said it, so goodbye!

**Dr. Watson: **Thanks again**, Lestrade.**

**DI Lestrade: **You can call me Greg.

**Mrs. Hudson: John, **I have some supper ready if you're up for it.

**Dr. Watson: **Thank you, **Mrs. Hudson, **that would be lovely.

**Mrs. Hudson:** No problem, dear.

* * *

In a far away place, a dark haired man looked at the post. He had tears in his eyes by the end of it.

"I love you too, John, I love you too." He whispered. "I promise I'll come home as soon as I can."

He then closed the laptop and went to go unravel the final pieces of Moriarty's web.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I got a prompt from Ranger Girl 81! Try and use your deductive skills and figure out the prompt by the end. This story happens long after the Fall, and the duo are now a couple.  
**

**Thanks for reviewing, favoriting, and following!**

**-SherlockNinja**

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_He was there near Barts when his cell phone rang. He answered. _

_"Sherlock."_

_"John, are you alright?"_

_"Turn around and walk back to where you where."_

_"No, I'm coming in."_

_"Please just do as I ask, Sherlock!" John never yells, why is he yelling now?_

_" Here?"_

_"Yes, now look up, I'm on the rooftop."_

_"No."_

_"I-I can't come down, so we'll do it like this." John never stutters...  
_

_"Do what? What's going on here John?"_

_"An apology."_

_"What? Why?"_

_"I am Moriarty." John couldn't be Moriarty, that would be impossible!_

_"Why are you saying this, John?"_

_"I am a fake."_

_"John-"_

_"I am not John, I tricked you. Tell Molly, tell Lestrade, bloody hell, just tell anyone who will listen. Sherlock's sidekick was Moriarty."_

_"John, shut up, just shut up! The first time we met - the first time - I deduced all about you, and you said it was almost all true, that the only thing I got wrong was the sister. You would have said something else as well, but you didn't."_

_"I told you a lie."_

_"No, you didn't"_

_"I researched a person online and took their identity. It's a huge trick, a magic trick." To say magic trick was funny, but my brain wasn't functioning except on how to save John._

_"No, stop it!" I started moving towards the building.  
_

_"Stop, stay exactly where you are!" That was his drill Sargent voice, so I froze._

_"Okay."_

_"Look at me Sherlock, don't look anywhere else. Please will you do this for me?"_

_"Do what?" What was John thinking?_

_"This phone call, it's my note. That's what people do, right? Leave a note." _

_"Leave a note when?" John was not making any sense._

_"Goodbye, Sherlock." That I understood._

_"John, NO! Don't-" It was too late. All I could see was John falling, falling to the ground. I heard a crack. I started running, but a biker knocked me over. I went and got to the body eventually. No pulse, no breathing._

_My only friend, John was dead._

_I went back to Baker Street and screamed. "John!" I yelled..._

"John!" I woke up in a cold sweat. I looked at the clock. 1:30am. John turned over to face me.

"What is it Sherlock, are you okay?"

"No."

"What happened?" John asked as he took me into his arms._ His very real arms_ my mind provided.

"It was the Fall all over again," I started, noticing John tense beside me. "Except you fell instead of me, and you really died."

"Oh Sherlock." He said in a soothing tone. "Look, I'm right here and I'm fine, okay? You just need to forget the Fall. Delete it, it's not important."

"I can't. I have tried." I responded truthfully.

"Try again, Sherlock." He said, but he saw the doubt in my eyes. "For me?" he pleaded.

"Alright, but you have to be quiet for a few moments." I said.

"Anything for you, love." He whispered before closing his mouth tight.

I went into my mind palace. I took the book labeled _Reichenbach_ and threw it in the fireplace. Then I went into the room called Home. This was John's room. I took the papers there that were labeled _Heartbroken_ and threw those in the flames as well. Once they were done burning, I scooped out the ash and threw it in the garbage. Then I came out of my mind.

"Did it work this time?" John was very good at telling whether or not I was in my palace. I looked deep into my head. I see blurred things that looked like something falling. _What is that?_ I thought.

"There's something that's out of focus and falling, what is it?"

"Just a bird, Sherlock. We saw a bird get shot on one of our cases, remember?" Now I saw it, yes it was a bird.

"Yes, I vaguely remember now. I see the shape of the bird. Thank you John."

After that, I drifted into a deep sleep.

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**A/N: The prompt was that one of them had a nightmare ad the other comforts them. Thank you Ranger Girl 81 and I hope you enjoyed!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: THANK YOU! I haven't had this many reviews so fast before, so thanks goes to you, ****kols-little-assasin****, ****Ranger Girl 81****, ****TrekkieL****, and ****DrakeGirl5****! I love you all and I give you internet hugs! I got a prompt from ****TrekkieL**** so, my fellow Sherlockians, again I will let you try and deduce what the prompt was before the end.**

**Thank you again for all of your support!**

**-SherlockNinja**

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Sherlock was sitting on the couch exclaiming how bored he was to an empty flat when his phone rang. He checked the caller ID, and it was Lestrade. His prayers had been answered!

"Sherlock Holmes"

"Sherlock, there's a good one here at-"

"Text me the address, I'll be right there." Then he pressed the end button, sent a quick text to John, and headed out the door to flag down a cab. He heard his phone go off with the address and he forwarded the message to John. He quickly told the cabbie the location and they drove towards the crime scene. Unfortunately, John would arrive approximately one minute and thirty-four seconds after he did, but the case seemed like a good one given Lestrade's tone of voice. The cab finally stopped and Sherlock payed the fee before dashing off to the police cars.

"Hello freak." Sally greeted him as he ducked under the yellow tape. Sherlock ignored her and headed towards the body and began his deductions.

_37 years old, married unhappily for 5-10 years, two kids, 2 and 4, doesn't want them, one cat, two dogs, was on a work trip to London, lives in Cardiff, works as a salesman-_

His thoughts were interrupted by none other than the idiot himself.

"Why are you here, freak? The cause of death was obviously asphyxiation and he's in a noose, it's suicide." Sherlock sighed, _why does the Yard have to be full of imbeciles?_

"The cause of death was from lack of oxygen, but not because of this noose, that was added to make it look like suicide. No, this is murder, now the question is whether it was the maid, the wife, or the competition company's lead sales person..."

"It wasn't the wife, she was really sad about loosing her husband and the maid was crying over his body when the police arrived."

"The wife is a professional actor and the maid was in several plays as a kid. They are both very good actors, so crying doesn't make them innocent. Just shut up, Anderson, you're making the room more stupid."

"How? By talking?"

"Yes, now as I said, shut up." Then Sherlock went back to his thinking.

_It couldn't have been the compitition because they- _He was stopped yet again, by Anderson.

"I don't know how your _boyfriend_ can stand you when you're such a smartarse! He can't be doing this by free will, he has to be payed or something." Sherlock flinched a little at the comment, nobody would have normally seen it, but John saw it as he was entering the crime scene.

"Anderson," John started calmly. "Sherlock comes and solves _your crimes_ for you and you thank him by dishing out _insu__lts_? I don't think that's very kind, do you?"

"It's what the freak deserves!" John's jaw clenched and his fingers formed into a fist. This time when he talked, he couldn't keep the anger out of his voice.

"He is NOT a freak, and the next time you say that, you WILL get punched! Sherlock is an extraordinary man, and he deserves praise from you! Hell, for not punching you all these years, he deserves a metal! And for the record, I am his boyfriend because I _want_ to be. Not because I'm payed or punished or anything else that you could come up with in your tiny brain!"

"I bet that he IS paying you and you get extra-" That was as far as Anderson got before his face met Dr. John Watson's fist. He blacked out and slumped to the ground.

"Well that felt good." John said. Sherlock, who had been secretly watching the fight before him smirked. John turned to Sherlock.

"How are you, Sherlock?" He asked.

"Much better since you arrived, John." Sherlock replied before giving John a peck on the cheek. "I'm sorry, but the case has already been solved, it was the wife and the maid together."

"Will you explain you deductions?"

"Yes, of course." Sherlock said. "I will explain on the cab ride home." He had told Lestrade while Anderson and John had been fighting, but John had always loved to hear how Sherlock got his answer so he would repeat his whole speech again for him.

He would do anything for his boyfriend.

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**A/N: The prompt was that Anderson was picking on Sherlock and John gets in a fight with him or vice versa. Thanks for the prompt, and I hope I fufilled your expectations!**

**-SherlockNinja**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: I'm finally back, sorry for the long wait, I hope this makes up for it. I noticed that you people like Anderson bashing and kid!lock so I combined the two! This story is what happened. It also has to do with the fact that Benedict has a little lisp. If you want to suggest any # day challenges or even just one prompt, contact me and I will try to make it happen! Thank you for reviewing, favoriting, and following!**

**-SherlockNinja**

* * *

Sherlock opened his eyes. The stupid gas had knocked him out. He took in his surroundings. _Why am I so close to the ground?_ He thought. If he looked straight ahead, he could see John's knees. He looked up to John's face to see him barely containing giggles. Lestrade over to the side was bent over with laughter.

"What'th wong?" He asked, cursing to himself. He had always had a lisp, but luckily, he had managed to keep it from coming out near John. But something was different this time. His voice sounded high pitched and strangely _childish_.

"Sherlock go find a mirror." John said, a grin lighting his face.

Sherlock dashed off, noticing that his legs were really, _really_ short, and akward to walk on. It took him three times as many steps to get to the restroom. When he finally got there, he realized why.

The reflection staring back at him was a two-and-a-half year old version of himself.

Suddenly everything made sense! The lisp, the height, and the giggles coming from everyone around him. He liked that people weren't glaring at him like the usual, but that wasn't the point.

The Great Sherlock Holmes had shrunken to a toddler.

He ran back to John and Lestrade. He had to stop and take a few breaths before saying anything because his tiny body wasn't used to so much exercise. "What happened while I was knocked out?" He finally managed.

"The gas made it hard to see, but the criminal left with a gas mask and you fell and, well, shrunk." John said, still smiling ear to ear. _This version of Sherlock is really cute _His mind supplied unhelpfully. _We need to change him back _his logic screamed. He turned to see little Sherlock running through the room, obviously trying to find something, but hindered by his height and too proud to ask for help.

"What are you doing, Sherlock?" John asked. Sherlock looked up to him, for once, and pinned him with his eyes.

"Wecowds." He said quickly, before trying to pronounce it correctly. "Wwwwwecowds. Wecowds." Lestrade wasn't helping by laughing in the corner. "Data." He finally said, giving up.

"Okaaaaaay. What kind of data?" John asked as Lestrade was unable to speak, absolutely howling with laughter over Sherlock's current state. John fixed him with a glare and he quieted down to chuckles.

"Blue notebook labeled "gath"." He had stopped trying to say things correctly, and had just trusted that the two adults could figure it out. "Inside find the expewement labeled "kidth gath" and find out how long it continueth." He took his eyes from John's and searched some more._ It has to be here somewhere_ He thought. He was reassured by the sound of John sifting through papers above him.

Anderson chose that time to walk into the room. He immediately saw Sherlock's predicament and grabbed his sides as he snorted.

"F-freak. Is that you?" He questioned.

"Yeth, I am, now where is the notebook?" Sherlock scowled with all the might his little body could muster.

"How would I know?" Anderson said, feigning innocence. "You're the freak with all the answers, not me."

"Just give us the papers, Anderson." Greg spoke, having finally calmed down.

"I don't have them." Anderson stated.

"Yeth you do, you knew that I wath Sherlock even though I'm thmaller. Gimme it."

Anderson took a notebook from a shelf and dangled it over Sherlock's head.

"Reach up and grab it, Freak, it shouldn't be that hard-" He was cut off by John's clean punch to his face. Anderson fell to the ground and John picked up the notebook that had been abandoned. He flipped to the correct page as Sherlock stared at him.

"Two to four hours." John said, snapping the notebook shut. He looked up to see toddler Sherlock smiling.

"You punched Andython!" Sherlock stated happily.

"He deserved it. Do you just want to go back to 221B?"

"Until I gwow up, yeth."

"You'll never grow up." John deadpanned. He couldn't keep a straight face for long, an eventually he was chuckling. Sherlock joined in a few seconds after and, still grinning, the crime solving duo left to go to Baker street.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Sorry it's been a while! So, I wrote this in a study hall at school, and it turned out really depressing... It's post-Reichenbach. Thanks for the kind reviews! I hope you guys have a great school year (if you're in school)!**

**-SherlockNinja**

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John sat and waited. He did nothing; no eating, no drinking, no anything; he just sat in his armchair with the union jack pillow and waited. What was he waiting for? A miracle. His one hope that he had right now. Mrs. Hudson practically force fed him, she couldn't bear to loose the both of them in the same year, let alone the same week. John just didn't have the heart to eat. Mycroft visited from time to time. He did nothing. His mates invited him out to the bar. He still just sat, in the room where it all started, and waited.

One day, exactly a year later, he got up. Mrs. Hudson heard, and got excited. Mycroft found out and was glad. John felt bad for them, knowing that they wouldn't be happy after what he was about to do. He took out his laptop and began to type.

_I know it's been a while since my last update, I am only really here to say that there will be no next update. As you all knew, Sherlock fell. You knew he was my best friend, and he brought me back to life. What you didn't know (some of you guessed), and what I denied vehemently, was that I was in love with him. I had fallen for a mad, brilliant but mad, genius. I've realized, sitting here, that my life is nothing without him. He has somehow managed to weave his way into all of my memories. In uni, I see the pale skin peeking out from under the blanket in the bed across from me. I see his curly locks as I heal people in Afghanistan. I've even remembered a boy, down the road, with a particularly reckless nature. I guess this post is my note, as his phone call was his. I am sorry for those who still care, but I can't live life without my best friend. _

_I cannot live life without my Sherlock._

He pressed enter and grabbed the other item he had picked up. A gun. The gun. The one that held so many memories for the duo. It had killed to save Sherlock's life. It had been used to help Sherlock's boredom. Now it was going to help John get to Sherlock.

He checked one more time. The safety was off, the gun was loaded. All he had to do was shoot. His death wouldn't be nearly as dramatic as Sherlock's, but it would do. It's only job was to get him to the man he needed as much as oxygen. The only man he'd fallen for. The man that had kept him alive. He had actually come close to doing this before. The world had been dull, boring. Then he met the crazy genius that was Sherlock Holmes. Everything around him had been filled with color. That was why John had shot the cabbie and risked his life for a man he barely knew. He didn't want his reason to live to leave him. When Sherlock jumped, his eyes went back to black & white. Dull. Boring. Dead. He needed to get back to Sherlock, back to the color and the light of his life.

He screwed his eyes tight and put the gun to his head. His hand was shaking for the first time in a long time. _When I see Sherlock, it will be gone _He thought to himself.

_And maybe I could finally tell him that I love him._

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**A/N: THIS IS IMPORTANT, PLEASE READ!**

**This is an unfinished chapter and I want you, as the readers, to come up with an ending. It can be happy, sad, whatever you wish! Just send me them on tumblr and sign your fanfiction name, or guest if you don't have an account. I will post them and whomever enters, I will check out your stories and follow you on tumblr. I will favorite you as an author if I really like it. Let the games begin!**


	8. Chapter 8

I have a few endings written by people already, so here they are! Fantastic job by everyone so far! The deadline is the beginning of next year (1/1/14).

To Emlock (guest): Would you mind if I expanded your idea a bit? Kind of like what I did with the second one. Thanks!

I'm sorry for the formatting, I have no idea what this site is trying to do...

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**fangirlkat93:**

Okay so recently I read some Sherlock drabbles by a lovely author by the name of sherlock-ninja. In the last one there is a challenge to write one's own ending. So that's what I'm doing. Here goes. I hope you find this (and like it) Sherlock-ninja. Oh and just for context purposes; in this I'm going along with the apparent headcanon that Sherlock stays with Mycroft for a bit after The Fall. Simply because I can't think of any better situation for my particular ending. So without further ado; my entry:

"Damn it, John," Sherlock whispered furiously. He typed simply: "Wait" and clicked 'comment.' It was posted anonymously under John's note. Sherlock then grabbed a coat and hat that would make him for the most part unrecognizable. He slammed the laptop closed and dashed out of the room, down the many steps and past Mycroft who asked "What's the rush?" To which the detective replied: "John needs me." He bolted out the door, but not before calling over his shoulder: "Be back in a moment." Sherlock climbed into the closest of Mycroft's cars and ordered the driver take him to Baker street as quickly as possible without attracting too much attention. The driver protested but soon gave in to his demand as he had never seen the man so full of rage. Sherlock could be rather frightening if he put his mind to it. The detective was nervous and frankly twitchy on the ride to his former residence. Almost before the car had stopped he threw the door open and made his way to 221 B. He knocked on the door rapidly and when Mrs. Hudson answered he pushed past her; saying in a strange voice: "I need to see Dr. Watson." He flew up the stairs and exploded into the room. "John, STOP!" he yelled. The detective dived at him and did his best to wrestle the gun away. "John, stop it. It's me." Sherlock breathed. He managed to get the gun out of John's hand and stood for a moment trying to catch his breath. The doctor's thoroughly confused gaze was locked on him. "Who…" he uttered.

"John," the detective said simply. The doctor's eyes widened. Sherlock brought himself to his full height. "Please, John don't… For me, don't do this." He gently bounced the gun in his hand. John stood up; he couldn't believe what his senses were telling him. "Sherlock?" he dared. The man sighed. "Yes, John. It's me. I'm not really dead, so if you would please not try to join me again, as you won't find me wherever you think you would have been going." Sherlock put the gun down on the coffee table and turned to walk back out the door. "Try to keep this quiet, would you? We can't have everyone knowing-" he was cut off by a blow to the cheek. "John, what are you-" and an arm wrapped around his neck from behind. "John!" came the strangled cry; "haven't we done this before? You were a doctor, remember?" Sherlock was released. He stood on his hands and knees trying to catch his breath again. "I had bad days…" John replied quietly. "Sherlock, it's really you!" Happiness returned to John; to the places from which it had been absent for what seemed like an eternity. "Yes," the detective coughed. "I told you that. "I'm alive, John." The doctor smiled and held out his hand to help Sherlock off the floor. "I've been waiting a year to hear those words," he said. "Yes, well I apologize for that," Sherlock responded. As soon as he was upright John pulled him into the tightest hug he could manage. The detective hesitated only a fraction of a second to return the embrace with equal rapture. "I've missed you, John." Hot tears softened both men's faces as John replied with wavering voice: "I lost you, Sherlock I lost you." A few more moments passed before the boys dared release one another and step back. They laughed together warmly and wiped tears from their eyes. "Don't you EVER do that to me again, Sherlock Holmes," John asserted. Sherlock smiled. "I promise," he said. "Come on; let's get out of here before something awful happens. I can explain everything when we get to Mycroft's."

"Mycroft's? This entire time you've been staying with Mycroft? And he never said a word to me! I'll kill him…" Sherlock laughed. "Not the whole time. I told you, I'll explain later. We need to make sure no one else knows." John rolled his eyes. "Alright, fine. Not even Mrs. Hudson?" Sherlock shook his head. "If at all possible, no." The detective held out John's coat. "Shall we?" John shrugged. "Fine." He grabbed his coat and put it on while descending the steps. "I'm uh… going out Mrs. Hudson." The landlady could hardly contain herself at the news. "Alright dear, be careful!" The boys smiled at her motherly nature. "Yes, Mrs. Hudson." And with that the boys were out the door and on the way to Mycroft's; giggling all the way. Just like old times.

* * *

**OliviaBe:**

_It had been many months since Sherlock had received contact of any kind from Mycroft. But he did get the note saying John shot himself on the anniversary of his own "death". He was about to take down the last of the Moriarty crime web, it was a warehouse full of the last of the men and weapons. In order to make sure the job was done he would have to blow up the warehouse, it was highly probable he would not survive. He didn't want to. John was what he was fighting for, what he was trying to protect. Without John-what was the point of it all? He knew John believed in some sort of afterlife, he hoped he ended up there too. Maybe he would finally get a chance to tell John how much he loved him._

Sherlock ducted behind a barrel to hide. Didn't Mycroft know not to call him during his missions?

"What is it. I'm hunting down the last one! You know that I could die if this is not done yet!"

_"This is very important brother dear. John has decided to commit suicide."_"Well, stop him!"

_"He's already done it."_

"Couldn't you have stopped him? You had surveillance on the flat!"

_"He did it quickly. We thought he was changing for the good. I will send you his note."_

Sherlock hung up the phone. He read John's blog entry. Tears streaked the usually emotionless face. John was the only person he was really looking forward to coming home to. This was the last of the web. He would have been very careful to have kept himself alive for John, if he had not gone. Sherlock would go down with Moriarty. He would protect Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade by killing off the web, and he would go to John. The two probably wouldn't miss him as much anyway. He went up to the bomb and lit the fuse. He hoped that there was a place where he could find John after death. He just couldn't stand the thought of losing John forever. John was the only person Sherlock had cared about. The only person Sherlock had loved.

_I'm coming for you John. _He thought as the world went black around him. _I'd be lost without my blogger._


	9. Chapter 9

A/N:** I'm really, really sorry about how long it's been! I could write up a bunch of excuses a whole chapter long, but I will give you a story instead! :) I am working on another chapter to go up after this one, and that would be a prompt from someone on this site. I got this story started in school when I was talking with my friend. Sorry again, and hopefully updates won't be so long apart next time! Love ya! :D**

**-SherlockNinja**

* * *

Whatever Sherlock was expecting when John walked through the door on lunch break from work, it _definitely_ wasn't this.

"Sherlock, guess what I found!" John shouted as he stomped up the stairs.

"Something small, judging by the weight of your footsteps, your breathing isn't too labored either. You seem really excited, so something good. There's something making a noise that is not you, so an animal-" Sherlock stopped when he saw what John held in his hands. "No." He stated, turning over to face the back of the couch.

"But Sherlock-" John started to protest, but he was cut off.

"I said no. There's no place to keep it, we are not prepared, and who will take care of it during cases?"

John straightened up in a military fashion and his body language made it clear that he wasn't going to give up. "I'm going out to get supplies now, and Mrs. Hudson agreed to take care of it while we're out. I just need you to take care of it while I get the stuff." He softened up a bit. "Please?"

Sherlock sighed. John always knew how to manipulate him, and his charm was working. Sherlock was starting to ask himself why a pet would be a bad idea. He finally came up with what he thought was an excellent argument.

"Do you know what people say about you and that creature?" He asked confidently, sure that John would give up on the animal and give it back to where it came from.

"Yes, I know, and I don't care anymore. You never cared when people talked, so neither will I. And the 'creature' has a name. It's Hamish."

"Really John, I never thought you were so vain." Sherlock hissed back, annoyed that his plan didn't work. John merely raised an eyebrow, and Sherlock realized what a stupid fight he'd gotten himself into. "Fine, I'll look after it. Just for an hour, though."

"Thanks, Sherlock!" John said, depositing _Hamish_ in Sherlock's lap and running out the door.

"I guess I'm stuck with you." Sherlock spoke aloud. It was useless, the thing only shook itself and got comfy. "It's only for an hour though, so it's alright. I'll just go to my mind palace." He continued. Sherlock went into his mind, but quickly realized his head was foggy from being exhasted. He felt himself slowly slip into the peacefulness of sleep...

* * *

John quickly found all the supplies he needed with the help of the lovely shop assistant, although he expected he bought a bit more than absolutely necessary. He texted Sherlock to see how things were going when he left the store.

**Got the supplies, heading home now. Be there in ten. How's Hamish? -JW**

When John didn't get a reply, he got a little nervous. He dashed out of the cab and up the stairs of 221B and threw open the door, fully expecting an intruder. What he actually saw was a vast improvement over his wild imagination.

Sherlock was sleeping on the couch, snoring slightly, wtih Hamish curled up in his hands. John snapped a quick picture for blackmailing purposes and set up the stuff in his room. When he came back down, Sherlock was still sleeping, so he left a note for what to do with Hamish and went back to work.

* * *

The first thing Sherlock noticed when he drifted back to consciousness was the post-it note adhered to his forehead. M_ature, John. _He thought. He pealed it off and read it.

**Sleeping beauty, **_(Very mature)_

**I had to go back to work. When you wake up, make sure to put Hamish in the cage on my desk and flip the latch. I'll see you at 8.**

**-JW**

Sherlock did as the note said and then sat back down to think. Now that he had taken a quick rest, his mind was clear and he sifted through all of his thoughts as he waited for John to arrive home.

* * *

When Sherlock finally picked up on the light footsteps coming up the steps, he came out of his mind palace and looked at the door expectantly. He had a pressing question for John that he had waited the whole day for the answer.

"Hello." The doctor greeted as he came in through the door._ Good day at work, then. _Sherlock thought.

"I have an important question for you." Sherlock stated.

"And what may that question be?" John asked, turning around to look at Sherlock.

"Why did you buy a hedgehog?"


End file.
